


Deny This Emptiness

by angstypupper



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, M/M, Steve Wants Kids, Tony Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 04:48:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13228413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstypupper/pseuds/angstypupper
Summary: Steve has never wanted to have kids. Neither does Tony. For their own reasons really, Steve just can’t see himself as a dad (shockingly), and Tony… well, Tony has his own reasons. After a particularly close clash with yet another supervillain, Steve gets a sudden paternal rush and wants to adopt a child. Tony freaks.





	Deny This Emptiness

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I hope you enjoy this fic. Please keep in mind that I haven't thoroughly edited it from spelling or punctuation errors. So sorry!

When Tony enters his shared room with Steve, Steve was already on the bed fast asleep. His form was curled into a fetus position in the middle of the bed and his face was the picture of bliss. Tony could tell he hadn’t done much washing up, his hair was still all over the place, and his face still held traces of specks of dust and grime from fighting earlier today. He was only clothed in a pair of boxers, and his suit, when it would usually be meticulously placed in the closet, was strewn on the floor as if Steve couldn’t care less about his precious Captain America suit. Sighing with a small smile on his face, Tony walked over to the edge of the bed and softly carded his fingers through Steve’s hair. Steve mumbled something in his sleep and leant closer to Tony.

Today had been exhausting. The terrorist group they fought today had gotten their hands onto some stupid alien tech that had almost killed Clint, who had been so focused on shooting out the leader of the group that he had been knocked out by the blast of that weird tech. Clint was in the medic room right now, and Tony had just left Bruce in the lab after studying the tech today. Steve, who normally would have insisted Tony stop working and go to bed right away, had been so spent that he went straight to bed, eyes barely opened. He had been tracking the group for days, being awake far longer than the rest of the Avengers. When they got home, Tony had half carried Steve into bed, tucked him in, placed a chaste kiss on his forehead, then left to the lab to study that stupid tech. 

Now, after a relatively short three-hour post-fight research session with Bruce and JARVIS, Tony was pretty sure that the tech they’d been able to salvage was Chitaurian. Thank God, because if that had taken even an hour longer away from Steve after that fight he would shit himself. All Tony Stark wanted to do right now was go to bed next to the love of his life.

Silently, he entered the bathroom and took off his black t-shirt, groaning slightly as his muscles screamed from the sudden movement. Deciding to simply go to sleep like Steve in his boxers, he washed his hands from the machine oil and slipped into the bed next to Steve.

Instantly, Steve was next to him, his head buried into the crook of Tony’s neck and his massive body thrown almost completely over Tony’s body. He was heavy, but Tony didn’t particularly mind right now, simply enjoying the warmth that radiated off Steve’s body. Before Steve, there wasn’t really anyone else. There was Pepper, but their relationship had been more business-like rather than couple-y. Tony hadn’t committed to anyone permanently since Pepper, and that relationship had been rather short-lived. 

Steve was home. He had always been home, even before they had gotten together. Not that the other Avengers were left out, it was just that Steve and Tony had a special bond. They not only worked together flawlessly on the field, they also understood each other on near impossible levels outside work too. After missions, they would go down to Tony’s private workshop and simply worked. Tony worked on whatever genius creation he was inventing this time, and Steve either sat filing mission reports or drawing. Usually drawing Tony. To an outsider, they would have looked like they weren’t interacting at all. After all, they were on opposite sides of the room, doing their own tasks. 

But the outsider wouldn’t see the glances either. How Steve looks at Tony as he is hard at work, sweat beginning to stain his forehead, arms crossed over his muscular chest, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out a solution to his latest engineering equation. How Tony looks at Steve as he types furiously when he’s filing reports, and how his arms move as gracefully as they do with his pencil as he does with his shield. And how sometimes they’d look up at each other at the same time and Tony’s eyebrows would smoothen, a smile appearing on his tired face, and his body stopped tensing. How Steve would stop typing and give him a billion-watt smile, one different to the one he gave to the public, a smile specifically reserved for Tony. 

Then Tony would insist on ordering pizza or Chinese or shawarma, and Steve would grin and agree, and they’d find themselves on the floor laughing and talking as a TV would glow softly in the background. Other times Tony would insist on forcing Steve to watch some “block-buster” movie that Steve had missed while he was a “Capsicle.” 

That was when they had their first kiss, a short, sweet one that Steve had cut off abruptly.

“If this is going to happen, I must take you out on a date first, Tony.” He had said, in all his Captain America righteousness. 

When he said that, all self-consciousness Tony had had about their relationship was thrown out the window.

“Isn’t this a date, Cap? C’mon Steve, just give me one more kiss.” He said as mockingly threw himself over Steve’s legs. 

Steve had simply rolled his eyes and pushed him off, exiting the room, “Be ready in fifteen, we’re going out!”

Tony huffed but complied, and not less than thirty minutes later, he found himself in a local diner with Steve, sharing a chocolate milkshake in the most clichéd manner. 

When the two of them had gone into the communal room the next day holding hands, the team simply shook their heads, smiled, and passed around the money they had won or lost on the bet of Steve and Tony’s relationship. 

Since then, they’d had their ups and downs, but Steve was the constant Tony had always longed for in his life. In fact, they were so serious that Tony already had, a small velvet box tucked safely away in his sock drawer, ready to be cracked open whenever he felt it was right. 

As he glanced down again at the large man wrapped around his small body, he couldn’t help but feel so loved.

He shifted a little to a more comfortable position, causing said man to blink up blearily at him.

“Tony?” Steve said as he tried to get his eyes to focus.

“Hey, hey, Steve, it’s me. Go back to sleep.” Tony smiled softly.

Steve gave a him a smile back, drifting back to sleep.

Tony smiled back as he slipped out of consciousness. 

~ ~ ~ 

When Tony woke up the next morning, Steve was gone. That man had the uncanny curse of waking up way too early in the morning and being productive. Poor guy. 

Tony groaned as he rolled over to the bed and made his way to the little kitchen that he had installed just for them. (He had been getting tired of the team snickering every time Steve and Tony walked into the room with wild eyes, tousled clothes, and hair sticking up in every direction from their um, activities, in the bedroom). 

No sooner had he made himself a cup of coffee, Steve walked in with a small towel slung over his shoulders and sweat coating his forehead. 

“Good morning, Babe!” Steve exclaimed, way too happy in the morning. 

Tony merely grumbled an almost inhuman response, begrudgingly putting down his coffee and turning to pour Steve his own coffee, just the way he liked it.

“For me?” Steve asked, jokingly flattered, “Aw who would have known, the billionare Tony Stark making me, a mere peasant, coffee!”

Tony drank his coffee and glared at Steve from the outside of the mug, Steve just smiling back.

“Honey, Baby, my Love, you’re too good to me!” He cooed even louder, getting on Tony’s nerves on purpose.

Tony put down his mug and just looked at him. Steve laughed even louder and decided that Tony had had enough of his antics. Grinning, he swooped over to the other side of the counter and enveloped Tony in a massive hug. Grudgingly, Tony returned the hug and rested his head on Steve’s chest.  
“There, see, much better right?” Steve chuckled, rubbing soothing circles on Tony’s back. 

Steve moved to pull back, but Tony refused and held him closer, burying his head even deeper in Steve’s chest, refusing to let go. Steve let out another of his laughs and rolled his eyes, leading Tony to the bed and flopping down, Tony following in suit. Tony, being his stupid stubborn self, still refused to move and stayed clutching Steve’s chest. 

“Aww, Tony you were already being such a good boyfriend, making me coffee, but now you just throw yourself onto the bed like that? Babe what kind of dad would you be? Your kids would only know how to live on coffee if things keep going like this. Though, lets be honest, our kids would depend on coffee on some degree, considering they’d grow up around you. I call dibs on being the cool dad though, I mean, I was frozen in ice for, like, 70 years! I deserve that title. You can be the kinda-cool dad.” Steve rambled as he mused, not realizing when Tony tensed next to him and slowly let go of Steve. 

Steve only realized that Tony was out of his grasp when the bed elevated a bit because of the loss of Tony’s weight. Sitting up, Steve seemed to have just realized what he said.

“N- Not that you’d want to,” Steve stuttered, losing his Captain America-esque cool as Tony obviously tried to make himself busy in the pantry, “I mean, if you don’t want, shit, if you can’t see us in the future, then-”

“God, no, that’s not what I meant, Steve I can totally see us together in the future,” Tony said quickly, his head flying back to meet Steve’s eyes. He was talking fast, almost hysterically.

Steve shook his head, unsure, “No, if you’re uncomfortable I under-”

He’s cut off yet again by Tony, who came back to the bed and took Steve’s face in his hands, “No, Steve, shit you misunderstand, I do want to be with you. Fuck, Steve I want to marry you some day.”

At this, Steve’s face morphs into a huge smile, “Good, cause I want to marry you too, Stark. And have a billion babies with you. You’d be the greatest dad in the world, Tony.” 

Tony stiffens again. This time however, he doesn’t give Steve an explanation. Tony freezes as soon as Steve mentions children, but Steve is keeps talking about kids.  
“Tony, yesterday I saw this man and he was holding a son when we were fighting. This one time, one of the guys got really close to the man and this man, a civilian, used his body to shield his baby. Can you imagine? Loving a small bundle so much that you’d give your life for them? A child so small it can’t think, probably, but they’re yours. Tony, I know we have a long way to go, but I can’t wait.” Steve’s eyes are alight with wonder and hope, and something in Tony breaks a little bit as Steve talks about fatherhood. 

Tony can’t think straight, he can’t breathe. All he can get out of his mouth is a choked, “I need to get to work.”

Avoiding eye contact with Steve, he rushes out of the room, not giving Steve the time to react. 

“JARVIS, take me to the basement. I want to be alone. No one can go in or out.”

JARVIS’ voice bounced throughout the hall, “Very well, Sir. Does Captain Rogers count as part of this blacklist?”

Tony winced slightly at the name, “Yes, JARVIS, don’t fucking pretend that you didn’t hear that shit.”

JARVIS paused, “As you wish, Sir.”

Tony swore he heard the disapproval in AI’s voice but chose to ignore it, scowling instead. He had designed JARVIS to be way too smart, he thought to himself aggressively as the elevator brought him down to his main workshop.

This workshop was the one that only he and Steve had access too. When he realized that the Avengers had already basically moved in, Tony decided to build his own workshop so he could work in peace, without the Avengers barging in. He had another workshop for the team, one built specifically for Bruce, and then his own. His own was cluttered and machine parts littered one whole side of the room. On the other side, however, the room was close to pristine, save for some sheets of paper and charcoal dotting the floor. That was Steve’s side of the room. After Tony realized how much he enjoyed Steve being in the room, he worked on making a mini artist studio for Steve, one that was even equipped with his own sound system. Funnily enough, Steve refused to use it, preferring instead to listen to Tony work. In turn, Tony stopped blasting his, according to Steve, God-awful metal (haha get it) music and they both worked together to the buzzing and banging of Tony’s work and quiet scratches of Steve’s. 

As he walked in, a grimace made it to Tony’s face when he realized how much the absence of Steve in the workshop bothered him. Not that they talked every second of the time, they didn’t need too, it’s just the constant existence of Steve that brought so much warmth to Tony. Tony made a beeline to his current project as he heard the doors lock down. The glass that surrounded the workshop became covered by JARVIS so no one without access could see inside, much less get in. Not that he couldn’t see them of course, he always kept up constant surveillance of the tower.

“Your workshop is in lockdown, Sir.” JARVIS said, his disapproval still eminent in his voice. 

Tony groaned and ignored the AI, choosing instead to go back to his work.

~ ~ ~ 

Steve sat on the edge of the bed, not knowing exactly what had happened. One minute, Tony had been in his hands, the next rushing out of his room. He wanted to go after Tony, but Steve wasn’t sure if that was such a good idea. When he was mad, the genius seemed to enjoy his space. Steve didn’t want to cross that line. But, that look. All the emotions had dropped from Tony’s face and Steve can’t figure out why. Tony wanted to marry him, right? So why had he looked so sad? 

“Sir,” JARVIS broke through his though process, “I must inform you that Mr. Stark has sealed himself in his workshop and is not allowing anyone access. Even you, Captain.”

Steve started a little bit at the sudden voice, “What? Do you know why?”

“Even if I did, Sir, I wouldn’t be allowed to tell you.” JARVIS’ voice resounded around the room, a disapproving tone prevalent.

Steve nodded to himself, “Very well, thank you JARVIS.” 

Tony would be a great dad. Steve was pretty damn sure of that. Probably as great of a dad Howard must have been, if not better. Not that Tony had told him much about his dad, but Steve remembered Howard. He must have been a wonderful dad for Tony. Sure, Tony got lost along the way, but that was because of Howard’s death. Steve wanted to have children with Tony. Wanted to raise beautiful sons and daughters with him until they died, made sure they were loved and had both of their parents by their side. Didn’t Tony feel the same?

Sighing, Steve pushed himself to his feet and moved to go to the Avenger’s main common room. He’d give Tony some space first, then go down to talk to him. Let Tony cool off.

~ ~ ~

When Steve walked into the common room, he was greeted by Clint and Nat’s shouts as they played Mario Kart.

“Steeeeeeeeve!” Clint cried out as he walked into the room, “Tell Nat to stop-”

He was cut off by a quick hit to the head by Natasha, “Shut up, Barton.”

Steve let out a chuckle as he watched them fight jokingly. To be honest, these two badass assassins were honestly the lamest people on the planet, and Steve chose to tell them so.

“You guys are the lamest people on this planet. Clint, you literally just got out of the medic room and you’re already even lamer.” He said impassively.

Clint gasped mockingly at him and threw himself back to Natasha with the back of his hand pressed to his forehead.

“Did you hear that Nat?”

Natasha rolled her eyes and pushed him off, brushing her pants, “Morning, Cap.” 

Clint pouted at her and stayed in his position on the floor as she stood up to walk to Steve. 

“What happened with Tony? Why is he locked in his room?” She asked, smirking slightly as Steve choked on his glass of milk.

Clint grinned and hopped onto his feet, “Yeah Stevie-bro, why’s Tony sulking?” 

“How do you guys even-” Steve cut himself off, “Oh yeah, world class assassins and spies, we get it.” 

Clint and Nat bore matching grins on their faces as they looked at him attentively, waiting for him to explain what kind of trouble was going on between the Avenger’s cutest couple.  
“Alright, well this morning, see, the topic of marriage-” He was cut off by an excited Clint.

“You guys are getting married? STEVIE WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?” He shouted, only to be smacked over the head again by Nat.

“Do you want me to talk or not? And no, we’re not.” Steve said.

“Wait, he said no? Wait, did YOU say no? STEVE-” Clint screamed, borderline hysterical. After all, it was actually Clint that got Steve and Tony together after not-so-subtle hinting and countless booby-traps, “I put so much effort into getting you guys together goddammit! You are NOT wasting all my hard work-”

Again, Natasha smacked him in the head, “Shut the fuck up and listen, Clint.”

“Hey, language.” Steve barked, then rolled his eyes and continued, “No Clint, nobody proposed. Yet. ANYWAY, the point is, he was all okay with it but then I don’t know what happened, I said I was about starting a family-”

This time, Natasha cut him off, “Wait. You said what?”

Steve looked at her, thoroughly confused, “I said I couldn’t wait to have kids with him. Does that weird you out? Is it wro-”

“Jesus Christ.” Nat let out a huff, “And, no, it’s not that it’s wrong.”

Clint too had stopped laughing and his expression held a more serious look, “Kids are, well, they’re just a touchy subject for Tony, alright?”

Steve reared his head back, “Why? He’s so great around kids! Do you remember, just last month, he had those kids from school come into the tower and he showed them around himself! They loved him.” 

Clint shook his head, “Nat you take this one, I’m out.” 

Nat huffed and rolled her eyes as Clint exited the room. The little fucker was going to pay for this.

Steve just stared at her questioningly as he went on, “No, but he’s going to be a great dad! Have you seen him? Probably as great as Howard!” 

This time, Nat stared at him, almost disbelieving, “Has Tony never talked to you about Howard?”

Steve just looked at her blankly, “What’s there to talk about? Probably one of my best friends, his dad.” 

Natasha wanted to bang her head repeatedly on the table top, “Steve, this might not seem very serious yet, but this a conversation you have to have with Tony. As soon as possible. Preferably right now.”

Steve knows when Natasha gets serious. She gets this look on her face like a glare, but not really a glare. It’s the same face she has when she gets ready to fight. It’s not filled with hate, no, contrary to popular belief, Natasha isn’t cold blooded. It’s filled with a grim expression, as if she herself is Death, accepting the people she is about to welcome into the underworld. It’s scary. So when Natasha tells him to get his shit together and talk to Tony right now, he follows her instructions without protest.

~ ~ ~

“Tony?” Steve asks hesitantly as he knocks on the black glass-like material surrounding Tony’s workshop, “Tony, baby, we need to talk.” 

Inside, Tony refuses to allow Steve entrance, see, or hear him, “JARVIS, tell Steve to go away. I want to be alone.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrow in frustration as JARVIS delivers the message, “Tony, I don’t know what I said, but I’m sorry! Can we just talk about this? Face to face? Tony is it about the kids?”

Steve is rambling now, doesn’t know what he’s saying, he just needs Tony to understand that he’s sorry. Because as much as Steve is Tony’s constant, Tony is Steve’s rock. The only one who truly knows Steve. His fears, his doubts, his insecurities. Steve needs Tony, and he’s only now realizing that what he thought was simply Tony being petty might be a serious issue with deeper consequences.

“Tony, don’t worry. You’ll be a great dad, I’m sure of it. You’re so good, Tony. Tony, Howard would be so-”

Suddenly, the black covering around the workshop flew open.

“Howard would be what?” Tony was there, his eyes wild and voice holding a sharp tone that Steve had never seen before. 

“-Proud of you.” Steve wasn’t getting it, “Tony, what’s wrong, baby? Howard-” 

“Shut the FUCK up, Steve. You don’t know jackshit about my father.” Tony’s posture was stiff and unrelenting, his voice slightly cracking.

Steve drew himself to his full height. Howard had been his best friend during the war, save for Bucky. Howard’s laugh, smile, the way he’s joke around with Steve during the worst times of the war is part of what got Steve through the war. Steve never really had his own proper father figure, and he had always thought that Tony was so lucky to have Howard as a dad.

“Tony what the hell? That’s your father! How could you-”

Tony cut him off with the fiercest glare, “That man, will never be my father.”

With that, he turned around and encased his workshop again in the black material from earlier.

“Tony! Tony what the hell? Tony open up right now! Stark, we need to talk!” Tony could hear the change in Steve’s voice from friend to leader. 

“JARVIS, make this fucking room sound proof please.” He said.

JARVIS wordlessly did as he said, “Anything else, Sir?”

Tony shook his head then paused, “Actually, can you get me a glass of that heavy scotch?” 

“Sir, you blocked me from allowing any access to alcohol for you.” 

“Fuck, I forgot about that.” Tony rubbed his eyes tiredly as he rested his elbows on the glass, “I can get it myself though.” 

He moved to the left and opened his secret, decidedly non-technological liquor cabinet, filled to the brim with the strongest, most expensive alcohol that he had. He moved to open the scotch that he had been saving for a special occasion. Or at least, occasions like these where he needed to drink himself silly. Opening it, he didn’t think of the guilt he’d feel for breaking his sobriety, nor the pain in Steve’s face when he would find out. He could only think of one thing, and that thought he put into the air.

“Fuck you, Howard.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! If you liked this this TRASH pleasE GIVE ME KUDOS I NEED VALIDATION LMAOOOO and constructive criticism is always appreciated :) i'll be uploading the next chapter sometime next week


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